As Leo and Emery stepped into the living room, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
The air, thick with unspoken tension, seemed to hold its breath.
The silence was broken only by the faint sound of footsteps on the polished floor as Leo entered.. and beside him was Emery…
Leo moved first, his tall frame filling the doorway, his expression was a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he took in the familiar faces of his family.
It had been months since he had left for Russia, and the weight of that time had clearly settled on his shoulders.
His usually vibrant eyes now held a tiredness, a sadness that was difficult to hide. His eyes darted briefly to Vaughn, sitting silently in the corner, and a flash of something painful crossed his features before he masked it quickly.
Beside him, Emery followed with a softer grace, her slender figure looking delicate in contrast to Leo’s imposing stature.
Her eyes swept the room with a quiet intensity, assessing the space, before landing on Amara. Her lips curled into a polite smile as she greeted her in-laws.
“Home at last Son,” Vincent said, his voice low but warm, his gaze lingering on his son.
The past few days for Vincent were so tiring and today, though, there was a hint of relief, perhaps, or just the weight of the unknown that had plagued him in his son’s absence.
Isabelle was already up from her seat, her hands outstretched towards Leo. “You’ve finally come back to us,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, holding him as if afraid he might disappear again.
Leo hugged her back just as fiercely, his body tense with a mix of emotions.
For a moment, he let himself feel the comfort of being home.. something he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge for far too long.
But as he pulled back, his eyes met Amara’s, and the warmth seemed to fade. There was no lightness in his gaze, no playful teasing as there used to be.
Instead, it was shadowed with the weight of what had happened to Vaughn.
When he heard about Vaughn’s condition, Vaughn was already rescued, so he left all the work and came straight back to Las Vegas..
“Leo, Emery,” Amara said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She managed a faint smile, though the sadness in her eyes was evident. “It’s good to see you both.”
Leo nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze briefly flickering to Vaughn.
He asked, the words heavy on his tongue. “How has he been?”, his voice strained as if he already knew the answer.
Amara’s smile faltered, her eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. “He’s not the same,” she said quietly, the pain evident in her voice. “He doesn’t talk anymore. He… he’s just not the same.”
Emery, standing beside Leo, gave a soft sigh, her face mirroring the concern in his. “I’m sorry, Amara. But we’re here now. We’ll figure this out,” she said gently.
Leo’s gaze never left Vaughn, his heart aching as he watched his nephew’s lifeless form.
The boy who had once been a source of joy and laughter now seemed like a shell of who he used to be.
Leo swallowed hard, trying to push down the grief that threatened to consume him. He stepped closer to Vaughn, kneeling down in front of him.
“Hey, little guy,” Leo said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Do you remember me Vaughn?’ He tried to smile, but it was weak, nothing like the bright grins he used to give.
Vaughn didn’t respond. His eyes flickered for a moment but then drifted away, vacant and distant.
Leo stood up slowly, his face a mask of sorrow and helplessness.
The sight of Vaughn.. looking so lifeless, the silence.. so it made his chest tighten with guilt and rage. He should have been there. He should have been able to protect him.
Amara, noticing the pain on Leo’s face, spoke softly, “We don’t know who’s behind this yet. All we know is it was a gang, some local thugs who were hired for the job. But we still have no idea who’s pulling the strings.”
Leo’s jaw clenched at the mention of the gang. His hand tightened into a fist at his side, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Someone’s behind this, pulling the strings. And when I find them, they won’t get away with it.”
Emery placed a gentle hand on Leo’s arm. “We need to get Vaughn the help he needs first. He’s been through something no child should have to endure. He needs more than just us.. he needs professional help.”
Amara nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision she had been avoiding. “I’ve been thinking the same,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s time we get him a therapist. He’s not talking to any of us, and it’s clear he’s been affected in ways we don’t understand.”
Leo let out a long breath, his gaze still fixed on Vaughn, but his shoulders sagged in a mixture of helplessness and sorrow. “I’ll support whatever you think is best,” he said quietly.
Isabelle, who had been silently watching the exchange, nodded slowly, her eyes brimming with concern. “We’ll figure this out, together,” she said softly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed the uncertainty she felt.
Just then, Chira and Lucas appeared in the doorway, breaking the heavy silence.
Chira, with her usual warm smile, spoke up first. “Miss Amara, breakfast is ready. The table has been set.”
Lucas, standing just behind her, offered a quiet nod, his usual stoic expression softened by the tension that filled the house. He was there, as always, ready to protect and serve, though his concern for Vaughn was unmistakable.
He kept his gaze briefly on Vaughn before quickly shifting his attention to the others, waiting for a signal to proceed.
Amara nodded, “Let’s go,” she murmured, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
They all made their way to the dining room in silence, each of them carrying their own thoughts.. grief, worry, and determination.
The dining table was set with a variety of dishes.. fresh fruit, eggs, and toast, but nothing seemed appetizing. Still, they sat, the clink of silverware and the shuffle of plates filling the space as they began to eat.
Isabelle pushed her food around on her plate, barely tasting it.
She wasn’t hungry, but she ate anyway, trying to show some semblance of normalcy.
Vincent, on the other hand, ate slowly, his eyes fixed on Leo as he looked over his son’s face. “How’s Russia?” he asked, breaking the silence as he placed his fork down carefully, his tone still warm but heavy.
Leo met his father’s gaze, offering a small, tired smile. “It’s been… fine. Busy.” His voice lacked the usual confidence and warmth that once defined him.
Emery, noticing the discomfort settling in, cleared her throat softly. “We’ve both been working. Lots of long hours.” She smiled lightly..